Christmas Hostility
by LovelyLivy
Summary: Jeanne Benoit is dead. Twin girls tear open gifts with excited fervor. A man and his wife sit on the couch beside a Christmas tree adorning their perfect home. Everything is perfect. Or is it? TIVA.


**Kay, guys. This is connected to Halloween Hatred, another one-shot, again, AU. I've thought about posting the actual story that goes with them both, but am afraid no one will like it and no one will review. This was some much needed release from my personal reality Christmas Eve. I love my step-father. But I hate his family. It's too perfect. Which is why I busy myself with writing angsty one-shots when most kids are putting cookies out for Santa. Stop it, you brats, he's fat enough as it is! Anyway, I hope everyone has a Merry Christmas! And please, please, review!**

**Loves to you all,**

**Livvy.**

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Christmas in the DiNozzo household was high energy, and filled with joy.

Twin girls, Talia and Jennifer, had their just-opened gifts already in use, wrapping paper from them strewn about everywhere. Tony sat on the couch beside his wife, his arms around her slim torso, his head nuzzling the crook of her neck.

Life was good. And yet it wasn't.

Because no one seemed to notice the green-eyed beauty of Amelie DiNozzo slip away, her gift unopened and her eyes dark, a frown on her pink lips. She never would be apart of this happy family, she just knew it.

Since her mom had passed away four years ago, Amie had tried her hardest to fit in, she really had. Her father was an amazing man, just like her mother stated in the letters, and Ziva was everything a girl could ask for in a step mother. But Amelie could not help but feel like it was all fake. Like she was always the past reminder of a mistake and a screw-up.

For her father did not know she'd read the reports. The reports on a mission that was the making of her. Reading the solid black letter print, Amelie had never felt more lied to in her life. Her father had betrayed her mother, had lied to her about his entire life, but looking into his eyes the next day she knew she could not blame him. Jeanne Benoit had lied to her father about her existence. She figured that made her parents a little more even on the atomic screw-up scale.

Still, Amie felt alone on Christmas. Like,as she watched her father and Ziva, and their two _beautiful _daughters, she could not be apart of their happiness. Like she was the dent in a rather meticulously well-kept car. She needed acceptance. She _needed _her mom.

So she lie on her bed, eyes trailing over the white, speckled ceiling letting her mind zone out as far as possible. Reaching for something beyond reality. The tell-tale creak of her door and no audible footsteps alerted Amelie of her step-mom's entrance. The feeling of chocolate brown orbs on her skull could be slightly unnerving when she was in the presence of a boy, but now it was just annoying. Couldn't she have five minutes to herself?

"Why are you so red?"

Even more unnerving; the fact her step-mom could irk a smile out of the thirteen year old even when she was so apparently upset.

"You mean blue," Amie stated as dully as she could.

"No, I mean red. Have you been crying?" The Israeli woman spoke with a streak of worry coloring her tone.

She still concentrated solely on the ceiling, and only when she felt the the slight dip of her mattress as Ziva sat next to her did she choose to look at her, taking in the woman's creased brow and sharp eyes. Ziva was trying to figure her out. Well, she did not want to be _figured _out.

"I'm fine. Just a little tired, is all."

"You have been staying up late." If anything, her step-mother looked more involved. She continued, "It is not good for the body. All that reading you do cannot be any good for-"

"Listen, _mom, _please don't lecture me right now. I'm not in the mood. Okay?"

Amelie knew she sounded bitter. And bratty. In all honesty, however, she could care less. She just wanted to be left alone and the ebony-curled woman would do no such thing. In Ziva's mind, this was the time to step in. This was the time to be a mother figure to the girl she learned about so recently. She loved Amie like her own, how could she not? Anything that was apart of Tony had a place in her heart.

"Amelie, please do not speak to me like that. I know it has been tough without your mother around but I think with time you can move on and it is not good to just sit around here and mope-"

"Who do think you are?" Amelie's eyes sparked with barely held-in rage. "I don't believe you! You think I can just _move on? _Well I can't, I won't, and I refuse to. She wasn't your mom! You don't know how I feel and I sincerely apologize if I'm so emotional about it. We all can't be cold and emotionless like you are _Ziva," _she bit out sarcastically and ignored the brief flash of hurt in the woman's eyes.

"Very well then, I will leave you now."

Ziva's body tensed and her expression grew closed off. She stood up quickly and walked stealthily towards the white bedroom door. Amelie's heart pounded in her ears as she delivered the last, bitter and irrevocable words.

"Your selfish. This whole family is just a big lie. I'm just a big lie. And I'm done with it."

Ziva's eyes were filled with unmistakable upset as she turned towards the girl, standing in the threshold.

"If you truly believe that, Amelie, you would not tell me. My brother, Ari, was brought into the world much like you were, and he said nothing of his hate. He is dead now, the unkempt hate got the best of him in the end. You are not like that. You are strong like your mother and loving like your father. The day you realize you were made from love will be the day this hate ends. We love you, all of us, " Ziva's soft alto voice floated through the room and gave her a sense of security and finality.

When she did not answer, Ziva said a few more words. Amie's eyes were wide and a sheen film of tears shrouded them, the green suddenly so striking. As she buried her face in her soft green pillow and sobbed, memories overtaking her, Ziva's words rang through her mind like crystal sleigh bells. Her mother had put some up as ornament every Christmas, she remembered.

"Remember her in peace. Merry Christmas, Amelie," Ziva had said with a sad smile as she closed the door.


End file.
